


Best Surprise Ever

by allamchick



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allamchick/pseuds/allamchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long, tiring day, Martin comes home to find the best surprise ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Surprise Ever

**Author's Note:**

> A belated Summer Christmas gift for fractionallyfoxtrot!

Martin awoke even more exhausted than he was the night before. He thought a full night's sleep would ease the aches and pains from his van job, but it only seemed to bring them into sharper focus. His neck hurt when he turned his head, his shoulders throbbed, and his arms hung at his sides like lead balloons. He shuffled to the loo to get ready for work, aware that even his legs complained about the effort.

Today was the first day of their week-long stand-by. He didn't think their passenger would call today, so at least Martin could rest in the portacabin. Still, a week's worth of stand-by meant a week without van jobs, and with the rent coming due, Martin didn't know how he would get by this month.

As he sat on the bed in his tiny attic flat, he realized the place was a disaster. He didn't have much, but what he did have seemed to be strewn about in hasty disregard. Dirty and clean clothes littered the floor. Books on aviation dotted every available surface. Dishes piled up in his tiny sink. Even his loo needed a thorough cleaning. The flat begged for a tidy, but Martin couldn't be arsed to care. It wasn't as if anyone would visit, so why bother? He sipped coffee and opened his refrigerator for more milk. Empty, again. Luckily, Carolyn took pity on her underlings and fed them during stand-by. At least Martin would eat. If he couldn't pay the rent, he may not have a home to live in, but at least he'd be homeless with a full belly. He donned his captain's hat and left his flat with a wistful look back.

He descended the stairs carefully. His legs hurt and if he wasn't careful, he could trip and fall. The student house was quiet, as the students had gone home for summer break. If he fell, no one would be there to help. That thought scared him and he moved even more slowly. He missed the students, mainly because they kept the shared refrigerator filled with food and they didn't mind sharing with Martin. He hoped the next batch of students would be just as compromising.

The morning air was wet, which meant his van may not start properly. After three tries, the engine begrudgingly roared to life. Traffic was a nightmare and his van stalled twice. If he didn't fix the engine the van wouldn't pass MOT. No van meant no jobs, which meant no money. But he had no money to fix the van. A vicious circle. The story of his life.

When Martin finally arrived at the portacabin, tired and grumpy, Carolyn was arguing with Arthur. Douglas hadn't arrived yet. No surprise there. 

"...different foods, Arthur! Do you remember why?"

"In case they don't like one of them..."

"So Douglas and I don't both get food poisoning, Arthur," Martin said wearily. Arthur just couldn't grasp that concept.

"Morning, Skip! I do forget that all the time, don't I? I'll just nip off to the store again."

Martin plopped in his chair and stared at the paperwork on his desk. Flight plans, fuel estimates, and the month's accounting figures stared back as if taunting him into action. To his own surprise, the action he took was to ignore them, remove his hat, and put his head on the desk.

"Martin, the paperwork won't do itself," Carolyn remarked, although without her usual vinegar.

"Ibidumph," Martin replied. 

"I see." Carolyn waited for a further response, but Martin made none. "Well, I'll be in my office. There are muffins in the basket if you're hungry. I made them. Blueberry."

Martin lifted his head. He hadn't noticed the small basket on the corner of his desk. Reaching over, he plucked a muffin from its wicker depths and bit in. Blueberries filled his mouth and he sighed blissfully. Finishing that one in two bites, he ate another. The basket was filled so he didn't think anyone would notice if he ate a third muffin. And even if they did, they could afford food. He couldn't. Before he realized what he was doing, he ate a fourth muffin and sat back, sated and content.

After two hours, Douglas was still missing, Martin called his mobile. No answer. Typical. It was so like Douglas to shirk his obligations during stand-by. Martin would give him a good tongue-lashing when he finally arrived.

By lunch time, no one had heard from Douglas. Arthur and Martin shared the sandwiches Arthur had bought earlier, while Carolyn continued to ring Douglas' mobile.

"Should we be worried?" Carolyn wondered aloud.

"No. He probably overslept and decided to bag the day. He's done it before." Martin returned to his paperwork, angrily erasing an errant figure and writing in the correct one, pressing the pencil a trifle harder than necessary. "I'm bloody sick of the way he treats me."

When he left the portacabin at 6 PM, Martin had it in mind to swing by Douglas' flat and have it out with him. But he was still sore and very tired. A fight with Douglas would not be the best way to end a frustrating day. Martin went home instead, not looking forward to an untidy flat and empty refrigerator. Carolyn, in an uncharacteristic fit of generosity, had bought them all some dinner, so Martin wasn't hungry. But a late-night snack was always a welcome comfort in which he could rarely indulge.

His sore legs and throbbing shoulders made the climb to his flat more difficult than usual. Even his uncomfortable little bed would be a relief. He opened his door and flicked on the light...and stared. He blinked several times and stared some more.

His flat was immaculate.

More than immaculate. 

It was reborn.

Cobwebs that had become part of the interior design were swept away. The walls were scrubbed - actually _scrubbed_ \- clean and fresh, looking several shades lighter. His clothes were folded and tucked into the bin he had labeled "clean clothes." All of them. Someone had done his laundry. His bed was freshly made with sheets he did not recognize and topped with a plump comforter that matched. Dishes were washed and stacked on the little shelf over the sink. Books were put on shelves, in alphabetical order. Even his carpet had been hoovered. He scampered to the loo. It, too, had been cleaned. The floor was so shiny he was afraid he might slip on it. And the heavenly smell of cleanliness wafted throughout the flat.

Martin was speechless, until he looked in his small refrigerator. He let out a squeal of delight at the sight before his eyes. The refrigerator was positively bursting with food, bottled water, and milk. On top, where he once kept his coffee maker and cup, rested a brand new microwave. His coffee supplies, freshly replenished, were now kept in a new cabinet that someone had installed next to the refrigerator, in an unused storage space.

He looked around for clues and spotted a note on his pillow. 

_"Martin, I hope you'll forgive me for not showing up at work today, but I had much more important business to conduct, as you can see. I was parked down the street this morning, and when I saw you leave, I let myself in with the keys you gave me for an emergency. I considered this an emergency. Please call me, and I'll explain everything. Douglas"_

Martin reached in his pocket for his mobile, hands shaking, and punched in Douglas' number. He answered on the second ring.

"Good evening, Captain Crieff. Am I forgiven?"

"Douglas....what did you....why did you....how did you....I mean....it's....it's all...."

"Shall I assume your answer is yes?"

"Wha - oh, yes! Yes, of course. I mean you did all this....you did this....for me....."

"I did indeed. May I come over, Martin? I'd like to explain in person. I'll bring some dinner. I can be there in fifteen minutes."

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. See you then."

Martin removed his cap and sat heavily on his little bed. The comforter was soft and fluffy, and he had to fight the urge to lay down and go to sleep. Douglas would be over shortly. Douglas. The one person Martin would never have suspected. Looking around in wonder, he saw that Douglas had even cleaned his windows and hung new curtains. Martin smiled when he realized that an airplane pattern graced the curtains. He sat, transfixed, simply staring around his newly transformed flat until he heard a knocking at his door. Douglas was here. Martin opened the door to find Douglas holding a large plastic bag.

"Hello, sir, I hope you don't mind that I let myself in the front door."

Martin stepped back and allowed Douglas through. He then did two surprising things: first, he took the bag from Douglas' hand without saying a thing and placed it on his small dining table; second, he threw his arms around Douglas' neck and hugged him warmly. Douglas stood still for a moment and then patted Martin's back comfortingly. When Martin pulled away, he saw that Douglas was blushing.

"Thank you, Douglas. I mean, saying thank you isn't enough. I don't know how I will ever repay you."

"I didn't do this for repayment, Martin. And in case you're wondering, and I know you are, I didn't do this to have something to dangle over your head."

"Then why..."

"May we sit down and talk? Those steps are quite exhausting."

"All I have is the bed...."

Douglas smiled. "There wasn't enough room for a more formal arrangement, but if you look behind your dining table, you'll see two folding chairs. It was the best I could do given the size of the flat. But they're sturdy wood chairs, they should last quite a while."

Martin shook his head. "You thought of everything. I'm...I'm so grateful. Surprised, but very, very grateful."

"And I hope you like Chinese. I had a hankering for Moo Shu Pork."

As they ate their dinner, Douglas explained the rest of his surprise.

"I have a mechanic friend who owes me a favor, and he agreed to fix your van for free. I'll meet you there tomorrow morning. While he's working on it, I'll pick you up and take you home."

"Douglas, that's way too much. I can't..."

"You can and you will. You have been a rabbit of negative euphoria for weeks now and I'm quite tired of your whining."

"So, you did all this...."

"To shut you up. Yes."

But Martin could see in Douglas' eyes that his motive was much less dark and much more friendly. He cared for Martin. This was his way of expressing it.

"While I was installing that cabinet, I noticed some very old plumbing. For what you pay a month for an attic bed-sit, that was completely unacceptable. I had a chat with your landlord...."

"Oh, God, Douglas...."

"And he agreed to waive your rent this month."

"Douglas!"

"The cretin. He said he'll send a plumber when he can."

"Oh, Douglas. How can I..."

"Ever repay me? By asking for help when you need it. I may not be much, but I actually don't want to see you starving and in trouble. I'm your friend. Don't ever let yourself get in such dire straits again. That's how you can repay me, Martin."

"Alright, Douglas. Agreed."

They finished their dinner in a companionable silence. Martin saw a side of Douglas he never knew existed: friend.

"This doesn't mean I'll stop teasing you at work, sir. That would be against my nature," Douglas said as he rose to leave.

"Understood. And thank you again, Douglas. Thank you."

That night, for the first time in a very long time, Martin went to sleep smiling.


End file.
